


Step with Grace

by DeathjunkE



Series: The Gift of Grace [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, F/F, F/M, Gen, I'll add more tags as i go, M/M, Multi, Young John Winchester, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 15:55:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathjunkE/pseuds/DeathjunkE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are drips, drabs, one shot and full blown stories for my Gift of Grace verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Step with Grace

**Author's Note:**

> I simply adore John/Mary because really, that was some epic obsessive love <3  
> I think they should be happy and that she and John would have totally had ridiculous little misunderstandings like this <3

John remembers before the fire. He remembers it fondly and thinks of it often. Back then when he was at Mary's side. He had been so happy, so very clueless. About everything really, the things that went bump in the night, about himself, even about little Dean.

John had been convinced that boy was going to present as submissive. From birth Dean had been sweet, eager to please, loved to serve, absolutely thrived under guidance and went under in pure bliss anytime he was praised. On top of it all he was a good boy; handsome, polite (when he wanted to be), charming, brave and a born nurturer. If Dean presented submissive he would have made any Dom proud.

John looks down at the rum down in his tumbler and sighed heavily. He wasn't so good anymore, he wasn't young and hopeful anymore. Now he had this unpleasant aching emptiness deep in his chest that never eased, not when he drank, not when he prayed, not even when his boys laughed and smiled.

John remembers before, back when he had been playful, and stubborn, and naughty. When he had been Mary's. He'd toe the line with Mary pushing and pushing and seeing how much she'd let slide. It was never much, and he knew but still and all he tested the limits quite often and Mary, who knew him so well, would scold him or if he'd done something particularly irritating she'd give a mild punishment.

John felt his lips twist in a rueful grin, once when he had annoyed Mary for the better part of a week. It had been completely purposeful, his attempt at passive aggression.

Mary had put him on his knees when they had been in the mall, and while it wasn’t uncommon to see a sub kneel in public, he wasn’t usually one of the kneelers. They had been back in the changing rooms, so it wasn't all that public but still he had hemmed and hawed over the order. Mary had given him an exasperated look, tucked her fingers under his collar and tugged him gently to his knees as if he were a just presented teenage sub in her care. Some bastard kneeling not too far away snickered quietly and John felt his face heat in embarrassment.

So yeah, his pride had been a bit sore and he took it out on Mary in stupid small ways; leaving a fork In the sink even though he washed his plate and cup, getting motor oil from his fingers onto the freshly wiped table, letting Dean have the extra cookie she had said no to, and mouthing off. Mouthing off was a bit more difficult for those trying not to end up on the wrong side of their Dom. You had to maintain a respectful tone, and insinuate more than say.

Mary had caught on to him, and for each time he did something that smacked of insolence or a slight toward her she clicked her tongue and sent him to stand in the corner. The first time John had balked, declaring that he wasn’t a toddler, and wouldn’t be treated like one.

Mary had smiled, took his hand in her own and guided him to the corner of the kitchen reserved for Dean on those particularly bad days and said, “when you stop acting like you’re Dean’s age then we’ll talk about it. Twenty eight minutes John, no fidgeting, no turning around or talking, or else the clock starts over.”

John’s face burned when he heard the kitchen timer being set and stared stiff jawed and seething at the intersection of the walls. Over the next 6 days John had spent quite a lot of time in the corner. So much time that Dean had felt the need to come lecture him.

“You gotta listen better, Daddy. If not you’ll be there all day, trust me it’s awful.” And then came Dean’s sage advice, “You know Daddy, if you say you’re sorry she’d let you out earlier.”

And yeah, by that time John was through looking at walls and just about ready to swallow his pride (not that he had all that much left at this point, scolded by his toddler son). When John was released from exile he stood there for a minute more, mulling over what it is he wanted to say, and how to say it without ending up back in that fucking corner.

In the end all that thinking it over wasn’t worth shit because Mary beat him to the punch, and as usual he felt like an ass after she explained.

“I was trying on mini-dresses... and well I just wanted to flash you a little bit and may have a quickie in the backseat of the car before we picked Dean up from the sitter, but you were too busy sulking to notice.”


End file.
